September 10, 2007

Friday morning I was headed down to Atlanta for the weekend with a friend - to be one of 50,000 “ants” in Piedmont Park. I managed to snag an unbelievable package deal through Priceline. The catch - we had to fly out of LaGuardia in New York. I’d heard horror stories about that airport, but figured - what the hell - I’ll survive.

Leaving the house at 5:00 in the morning to catch a 9:30am flight, we took mass transportation (equates to the bus) from Smalltown, NJ to NYC to LaGuardia. Two buses later, we arrived at the airport, and checked in curbside. I expected a madhouse, but was instantly relieved to find it wasn’t bad at all - until we hit the security checkpoint. Airport security can be a daunting exercise for the ill-prepared, ya know!

There were only a few people ahead of us in our line. One of them was a well-coiffed, manicured, and pedicured princess. Let’s call her Barbie. Of course, Barbie wasn’t a real princess - but that didn’t discourage her self-perception. Anyway, Barbie was having a difficult time with the concept of security. She had her carry-on stuff, including a white dress bag containing - what we could only assume - a wedding dress. Princess Bride Barbie. Even better.

Barbie’s friend was trying to help her get through this very difficult ordeal - security. And then - oh, the horror - Barbie was told she had to take off her shoes and walk through the scanner.

Barbie: “I’m not taking my shoes off. I’m NOT walking across that floor in my bare feet!”
Security: “Then honey, you’re not getting through here.”

Meanwhile, we’re back in the line telling Barbie to get over herself and just walk.

A couple more exchanges between the two and, Barbie - realizing Prince Ken was not going to materialize and carry her across the security threshold, magically pulled out a pair of white socks and ever so distastefully and painfully pulled them on, then hurriedly walked through. Whew, that was close. She almost didn’t make it!

Barbie’s carry-on bag isn’t doing very well, either. The x-ray scanner has picked up something and now they’re going to have to open her bag.

Security: “Ma’am, you can’t take this on the plane with you.”
Barbie: “Do you know how hard it is to find that brand of hairspray?”
Security: “You cannot take it on the plane.”
Barbie: “I can’t believe you people - it’s hairspray. When did they stop allowing us to carry hairspray?”
Security: “If you want to take it, you can go back and check the bag in instead.”

Could she really be that dumb? Surely Barbie had flown before.

“Maybe you should have checked the guidelines (FAA) before you got here,” I said.

Yada. Yada. Yada. Yawn. Yawn. Yawn. Move along, bitch - you’re holding up the line.

They moved her to the side so at least the rest of us could strip down to our socks/bare feet and walk through.

As I passed her reorganizing her bag, I just glared and muttered “friggin’ drama queen.”

Oh, to be a fly on that flight. I can only imagine the drama. Lordy, I pity Prince Ken. He’s gonna be a busy boy.

Next up - Bloody Marys, Mimosas, and lime sneakers (lol). Stay tuned…

If you enjoyed this story, please subscribe to the full RSS feed. You can also have it delivered straight to your mailbox. For something different, mosey over to eScapes and check out dKaye's take on life through photos.

|  Printable version | Posted in camodi, that which amuses me | Tags: camodi, that which amuses me.